Spring! Sproing, Sprung...

Ah, its spring, that wonderful time of year when the grass turns green, the flies come out and the light lasts long enough to get something done outside after the end of the work day.  All kidding aside, there is something about spring that breathes a breath of fresh air into my energy levels.  That’s a good thing because spring also means maintenance around Fresh Perspective Farm.

Project One:  The Cleansing of the Blankets.

     Nothing smells quite like a turnout blanket at the end of the winter.  It’s a strangely attractive mix of horse, manure, mud, and urine.  Unfortunately the turnout sheets don’t seem to hold onto the pleasant smells, resulting in a mainly toxic dose of ammonia.  My smell bias aside, I’m an equal opportunity washer, so each Spring I lug out all the blankets, find an appropriate expanse of yard, hook-up the hose, grab my trusty scrub brush, and set to work.  Most people either pay someone to launder their blankets or risk being thrown out of the laundry mat (again) in an attempt to save a few bucks.  There are also those who just buy new blankets every year or so.  With my wallet on the thin side, I go ultra cheap, but that’s not the only reason I yearly bruise my knees.  I have found that good old fashion elbow grease is a very effective way to freshen up your blankets, especially if you take time to knock the chunks off throughout the winter.  The water-proofing lasts longer and they seem to hold up to many more years of wear and tear if they don’t have to endure the washing machine.  As for my knees, back and shoulders, well that’s a different story.

Project Two: Truck & Trailer Clean-up

     Even if you are diligent in always cleaning up after your horse takes a ride in your trailer (as we all should be!) at least once a year you need to give your rig a good cleaning.  I find it cathartic to go through every inch of space, finding that old dressage test and rereading it before filing it in its proper place, reuniting with the glove you were sure you lost, and checking the vet kit to make sure you are prepared for life’s bumps and scrapes.  The trailer floor is always a bit more work then fun, but if you consider the consequences of your floor giving way while you are in transit, it is always completely worth it.

     Tackling the truck is a matter of reclaiming.  The construction receipts shift their status from floating to filed.  The “emergency” rations are tested for density, are they brick, powder or edible?  I check to make sure all the paper work is tucked safely in the glove box and give everything a good vacuum.  For those of you with carpet less cabs – I envy you!

Project Three:  Getting Greasy

     I’m no grease monkey, but I’ve packed a few wheel bearings over the years.  While you may get more satisfaction from the cosmetic cleaning, don’t neglect the nuts and bolts that keep you moving down the road.  Unless you are super mechanically inclined (or can bribe someone who is) it’s not a bad idea to have a mechanic give your vehicle a good once over.  This spring I received the welcome news that pretty much my entire breaking system needed to be replaced.  While new calipers, routers, drums, shoes, pads, etc. isn’t cheap, it’s still cheaper then failing to stop with the horses on board.

Spring is a wonderful time of year.  It can set the mood for the year to follow.  Spring forward with new energy.  Sproing about like a busy bunny with your cleaning tools and make sure nothing important is sprung.  Then look forward to the coming year with a Fresh Perspective. 

Duck, Duck, Longview!

Wow, so it’s been a very long time since I’ve taken the time to put thoughts on paper.  Some might say it’s been quite a while since I’ve taken the time to think period, but that’s not entirely true.

Spring is always a difficult time of the year.  Don’t get me wrong, I love Spring.  It battles Fall and Summer and Winter for the top spot in my heart.  I just can’t choose.  Spring is the time of year when everything spins into high gear.  We come out of hibernation at home.  My paying work-load shifts into over-drive, and of course, the horse show season begins in earnest.  Couple all that with an intense desire to stop and smell the roses, tulips, pansies and grape hyacinths and you have the perfect recipe for a wee-bit-o-stress.

In the past, stress has been my fuel.  It’s what keeps me driving forward, but lately I’ve been noticing some of the negative affects stress has on my life.  I’m fairly guarded in what I say ninety-eight percent of the time.  It goes with the job description, but when I get overly stressed my built-in sensor starts to mal-function and stuff I’d usually keep to myself just spills out.  Thankfully it has yet to cause any nuclear wars or lawsuits, but I have experienced a few awkward moments over the last month or so.

My mind has increasingly been on the coming show season calendar.  Back in January I outlined the events I was hoping to attend.  Now is the time when I figure out which events I can actually afford to enter.  It’s this concern that has led to the most slip-ups.  I have a real problem with asking for money without providing something of true value in return.  My association with PR and advertising has only increased the aversion.  I know what is valuable to companies.  I could do a lot for them, but its individuals that are within my reach and I just can’t pull on those purse strings.  Darn my verbal fumbling because the subject keeps coming up and not in the planned professional proposal manner I would choose if I was willing to bring it up at all.

I ran across this message today and it really stuck.  “The moment you lift your head above the crowd you’ll attract attention, and not always the kind you want.  Learn from the duck.  He stays calm on the surface, keeps paddling underneath, and lets the water runoff his back.”

 So, by mistake or fate, I’ve stuck my head-up.  Now it’s time to keep cool.  I’ve got my game face out.  I’m still working very hard getting everything in place for the season.  Nutmeg and I have been having some very promising rides, so I’m optimistic.  I know life isn’t all sunshine and ribbons.  Life with horses definitely has as many downs as it does ups, but we feel ready.   Thanks to Mr. Duck for the Fresh Perspective.  It’s time to stay calm on the surface, paddle hard underneath and let the water runoff my back.  If we survive April, it’s Longview Horse Trials, next stop.

Going Green

Sometimes when you’ve been doing something one way your whole life, it becomes very difficult to see it from another perspective.

For me, recycling was a way of life.  I’d never known any different.  Not only did I grow up in a household that believed in being a good steward, being responsible, and taking care of the planet, but I also grew-up in the country, where we got rid of our trash by burning what we could and recycling what wouldn’t burn.  Don’t get me wrong, we weren’t so far out in the country that a trash pick-up service wasn’t available, but that would cost money and why pay for something when you don’t have to?

Now, just because recycling was the way we did things doesn’t mean I liked it one bit.  Sure, I felt slightly good about my efforts to preserve the planet for future generations, but that really didn’t counter-act the loathing I held for going to the recycling center.  In the spirit of thriftiness, we dropped off the recycling when we were already in town, which meant we tackled those containers in our Sunday clothes after church.  It was like climbing Everest in a swimming suit.  No matter how well we rinsed our cans and milk jugs, they still smelled like garbage and rotting milk.  Even if the wind was blowing just right and we could trudge across the parking lot ahead of the smell, when it came time to hoist the bags up to the windows of the recycling bins, a small feat when those windows were high above your head, something was sure to drop on you.  A can, a jug, or worst of all, liquid in some form or another.  Uggh.  I get shivers just remembering it.  I’ll happily muck a horse stall or help stitch up a wound, but I find garbage deplorable.  They try to make it sound clean and green by deeming it “recycling” but its garbage, and I had to touch it.  Every week.  In my Sunday clothes.  And then ride all the way home before washing my hands (these were the days before hand sanitizer in to-go bottles).   Needless to say, when I moved into town, it was bye-bye recycling!

Funny thing though, after a couple of years, I started sorting my trash a bit.  My roommate and I would save out the glass bottles, intending to recycle them like good upstanding citizens, however not once in three years did I ever venture to the recycling center.  You may be wondering about those glass bottles we were saving; well, we kept saving them and when they would threaten to crowd us out of the kitchen, my wonderful boyfriend would stop by and miraculously make them disappear.  I liked this kind of recycling!  MAGIC!  When we realized the system of us piling and him making it disappear, we started saving more items.  Tin cans.  Cardboard.  Paper.  But not milk jugs.  Never milk jugs.

I eventually married that Magic doer and we moved out to the country.  No trash pick-up this time, even if I could bring myself to pay for it.  Back to burning, which is a fine way to dispose of trash, but those darn tin cans and glass jars just won’t disappear, no matter how many times I burn them.  So it’s back to the recycling center.  Turns out, in this small town community, it’s a very gratifying experience.  The bins for the recycling are under roof and you drop your recycling down into them instead of hoisting it above your head.  You can pull right up to the walk way and there are generally other responsible, smiling citizens happily sorting their recycling into the appropriate bins without the worries of the sky, tin cans, or any form of liquid falling on their heads.

They say life looks better when you’re on top.  Who knows.  Sometimes all it takes is a change in perspective.   I took a Fresh Perspective on recycling.  What new perspective can you take?    

Hop on. The ride is about to begin.

“And when you’re in a Slump, you’re not in for much fun.  Un-slumping yourself is not easily done.  You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.  Some windows are lighted.  But mostly they’re darked.  A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin!  Do you dare to stay out?  Do you dare to go in?  How much can you lose? How much can you win?”

-          The Great Dr. Seuss

If you haven’t read Oh, The Places You’ll Go! by Dr. Seuss, you must.  It’s so good, that I actually received two copies for graduation and I kept them both.  Apparently I need to read them more often.  I’ve been in a Dr. Seuss class slump.   January’s hurry-up and wait chaos was wreaking havoc on my brain.  I was grouchy and listfull.  Plus, I was having a terrible time deciding whether it was worthwhile to haul a couple of hours to a horse show for two classes (budget/fitness dictated).  Never before have I turned down a chance to show, but I seriously considered it.

Somehow I managed to set my alarm, drag myself out of bed, clean out the stalls and make sure the horses were fed.  I loaded up the trailer, gave packing a lunch a quick thought, said good-bye to my husband, then the horse was caught.  We headed down the road, still ambivalent in our cares, with cross-winds and fog, venturing out, we dared.

My slumpy mood followed us all the way to the show grounds.  It wasn’t until after I opened the barn door and was greeted by a “Melinda!” from my coach that my feet began to quit dragging.  It’s amazing what a cheery welcome can do for your mood.  With wonderful weather, competitors from all over shed their blankets and came to play at the show.  That made things move a bit slowly, but I didn’t care.  I got to play catch up with old friends.  I didn’t realize it at the time, but talking things out gave me the kick in the pants I needed.

I don’t want to spoil your read of Oh the Places You’ll Go by quoting the entire work, though it’s tempting.  Let’s just say, in talking with friends I realized, I’ve been in “The Waiting Place.”  It isn’t pretty.  But somehow I found the motivation to get moving.  The show was wonderful.  We made some excellent strides of improvement and now confidence to continue those improvements on my own has returned.  I’d love to take regular lessons again, but right now I’m in a place where I’ve got to be self-reliant.  I don’t like it.  It’s scary, but if I just keep going, Dr. Seuss promises “98 and ¾ percent guaranteed” we’ll make it through.

                "You're off to Great Places!  Today is your day!  Your mountain is waiting.  So…get on your way!”

What about you?  Are you where you want to be?  Are you stuck in a Lurch; lost in a Slump; waiting, just waiting; playing a game you can’t win?  Or are you moving mountains?  Thanks, Dr. Seuss, for a Fresh Perspective and for un-slumping my behind!

                My helmet cam’s taping.  Time for some perks.  My ground poles are waiting.  My grid building in the works…

Roller Coasters

Roller Coasters.

You either like them, or you couldn’t be paid enough to strap in.  The ups and downs bring shrieks of joy or screams of terror.  The twists and turns charge you with adrenalin or churn up your gut.  Roller coasters just weren’t made for everyone.

Me, I could take ‘em or leave ‘em.  I’m not crazy about heights, so I generally keep my eyes closed.  I will  admit that there is something thrilling about cruising around the track at a break neck speed.  So, why am I writing about roller coasters in mid January?  I’m not really sure.  Gives you a lot of confidence, huh?

There have been so many things running through my head lately and I’ve had so little time to digest them that I feel a bit like a crazy scientist is test driving a roller coaster through my brain.

January started with two three day weekends in a row.  Absolutely unheard of.  In fact, I can count the number of times I had three days off in a row last year on one finger.  Those two weekends were heavenly and we made a lot of progress on getting the horses settled in at home and getting the daily chores running smoothly. 

Throwing a curve ball in the mix, we decided to join my family in Colorado for a bit more R&R and some snowboarding too.  We live in the middle of nowhere, so to abandon the homestead, we’ve got to pack up the cats, the dog and the horses and move them to facilities where their standard of care can be maintained while we’re gone.  I made calls and packed single servings of feed.  We packed the blanket boxes and counted needles for the feline’s insulin injections.  By the time “vacation” rolled around, we were exhausted.  Hoping to recuperate before returning home and reversing the packing process, we set off to Colorado. 

A day late and several dollars short we arrived.  Seems a Winter Weather Advisory went into affect the morning we approached the mountains.  Cooper is a trooper, but doesn’t handle sheet ice well.  Actually, few vehicles on I-70 do, so we spent 2.5 hours going .2 miles.  They closed the interstate down and turned us all around informing us we could seek refuge in Denver.  The snowboarding was good though.  Great weather, decent, if not a bit lacking, snow, good times with the family.  After two days, we were back in the car, back on the road, back in a Winter Weather Advisory.

Did I mention, while on vacation, we found out we’d lost a Pony Club friend.  While not a close friend, her untimely death at 20 shook me a bit.  She had a passion for horses, a seven month old baby, and a constant smile.  I’m not sure why it bothered me so.  Normally I handle that kind of thing pretty well, but it rattled my confidence a bit and is still lingering in the back of my brain.

We had some good luck in the form of a broken brake line when we went to pick up the horses.  “Good luck?” you say.  Yep, good luck.  As we pulled forward after hooking up to the trailer, the brakes went out.  The horses weren’t loaded yet and we weren’t pointed downhill. Good timing.  While we were rolling around on the ground under the truck fixing the brake line, we discovered a large bulge in a rear tire on the truck.  Changing to the spare was added to the list of “do immediately.”  Another stroke of good timing. 

January is usually when I plan out my show schedule for the coming year.  I make lists of exercises to work on and pour over every minute of the George Morris Clinic on the USEF Network during my lunch breaks at work.  I like cuddling up with a good book on horsemanship and riding technique.  This January hasn’t gone as planned.  I found a book, haven’t had time to read.  I visited the USEF website, but haven’t had time to watch more than 30 minutes.  Instead I’m corralling people and troubleshooting problems.  It’s frustrating.  Kind of like getting the itch to ride a roller coaster in December.

I had the opportunity to go to a small hunter/jumper show last weekend.  Normally, I’d be there in a heartbeat, but I’d been having second thoughts.  Not that I was getting cold feet (okay 8 lows, mean they are a little cold), but more I’m getting tired feet.  I knew once I got there, I’d have a good time, learn some things, and end up feeling refreshed, but the motivation was just not there.  I did end up dragging myself out of bed, but that’s a different story.  For now, strap-in, the ride is about to begin. 

Twelve Days of Christmas

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me…

Twelve Pasture Pro Posts (closer to 2,000)

Eleven loads of gravel (we’re still spreading it, volunteers welcome)

Ten rolls of duct tape (even a roll in blue)

Nine apple horse treats (okay, they were peppermint, but that didn’t fit)

Eight shinning light bulbs (no more flashlight stall mucking)

Seven black bridal racks

Six swinging stall gates

Five rolls of ElectroBriad

Four bags of feed

Three big bales

Two muck buckets

And the horses home with me!

Merry Christmas!  It’s hard to believe that just last year, all I wanted for Christmas was a Christmas tree to make our house feel more like a home and less like we were camping.  I actually ended up with three trees.  An electronic sparkly tree from a dear friend, a cedar tree sprout decorated in a pot with kill orders from my mom, and a beautiful tree in the bedroom (because that was the only finished room at the time) from my husband.  It was a wonderful Christmas and it’s been a terrific and productive year since.

When you’re part of the daily grind, it’s hard to step back and see how far you’ve come.  That’s true whether you’re building a farm from scratch, training a horse, or tackling a big project at work.  Plus, this is a stressful time of year.  There are bills to pay, subscriptions and memberships to renew, and of course presents to find and purchase.  We find ourselves hustling and bustling with no direction.  With our heads in our shopping carts and calendars, we lose sight of the reason for the season.  So, instead of a Fresh Perspective this holiday season, let’s all take a long look back.  Look back through you day and all you got done.  Look back through the year at the highs and lows.  Then look way back to the first Christmas and remember it’s not what we do, but what’s been done for us.   

                                                          Merry Christmas!

Applied Physics: Newton's 2nd Law of Motion

The relationship between an object’s mass, its acceleration and the applied force is force equals mass times acceleration.

Physics is definitely not my subject, but the horses seem bound and determine to further my education, even if we’re going about it in reverse order.  We learned about Newton’s 3^rd law back in May.  (Read it Here)  This week’s lesson, Newton’s 2^nd Law of Motion.

I find the Second Law of Motion a little more complicated.  After all, it involves math.  That’s probably why Nutmeg needed to illustrate it not once, but twice this week.  For the first time since moving the horses home, I got to ride in my future arena, aka “the grass patch.”  Early in the year, I mowed the grass in approximately the location and dimensions of the grand prix jumping arena we will someday install (ha).  Admiral tested it out first with a very easy walk/trot day.  The ground was still a little wet and we were occasionally tearing up the grass, so we played it safe.  We’re also both embarrassingly out of shape so that helped dictate our regimen as well.  Fitness and activity levels aside, we determined the grass patch will make a fine arena and it was great to be riding in circles at home.

Nutmeg was thrilled with the footing the following day and that’s where Newton’s 2^nd Law comes into play.  The relationship between an object’s mass (Nutmeg’s mass = a lot, her weight is 1280 lbs.), its acceleration (halt=0 mph, walk = 4.5 mph, trot = 12 to 15 mph, canter = 20-25, buck = who knows… but you get the idea) and the applied force is force equals mass times acceleration.  So, we’ve got the mass of a very big horse times the acceleration of a very big horse who hasn’t been out on good footing in ages.  Let me tell you, the force is great, so great, the ground was flashing before my eyes and I was praying I stayed in the saddle.  The really great thing about force is that it can be applied in any direction, forward, backward, up, down, diagonal.  Nutmeg made sure I remembered that concept as well with a series of rodeo bronc bucks that rivaled her younger days.  I guess the two trips to the chiropractor have her feeling young and frisky.

Lesson two for Newton’s 2^nd Law came a few nights later.  We spent a large portion of the day preparing for the impending rain.  We hauled and spread gravel on my path up to the pasture to prevent the mud slip-in-slide adventures of the last rain fall.  Then we dug out under the pasture gate and filled in with gravel.  Yes, I’m seriously spoiled by my husband.  That night, as I was bringing the horses and pony inside, Newton’s 2^nd Law got some practical application.  In the very dark, dark a hoof collided with my ankle bone.  The force at which it impacted was great, but I wasn’t sure who to blame.  Remembering Nutmeg’s lesson earlier in the week I did a little math.  A large amount of force would be the product of either large mass and little acceleration or little mass and fast acceleration.  Admiral was ruled out because he wasn’t close enough to inflict damage.  Vaughn weighs all of 500 lbs when wet.  We were walking.  Acceleration was nil.  Big foot’s to blame.  Big surprise.

So, lesson noted.  Physics is very much an applied science.  Sometimes it’s applied to your rear; sometimes to your ankle and sometimes it allows you to soar over cross country fences.  I guess Newton’s 2^nd Law of Motion isn’t all bad.  That’s your Fresh Perspective on Newton’s 2^nd Law.